Men, Money and Madness.

On Men

So, Li'l Mama and I frequently discuss her relationship with her boyfriend who has commitment issues and won't call her his girlfriend to other women, even though they've been involved for over 2 years.  And through these discussions, I've really come to realize (1) how alike women are in terms of how we deal with men, and (2) how lucky I was that I learned a lot of these lessons early on.  

Women tend to give too much of ourselves without realizing it.  We don't register the steadily-worsening everyday tiredness that won't go away as emotional fatigue until it gets to the point where we feel hollow inside.  Used.  And as we're giving and giving (usually without complaint, because we're happy to give... just gotta get something [and material things do NOT cut it] in return), we'll never give a CLUE as to how much it costs us to give.  I've lived it.  I've seen it, way too many times.  We won't speak up about how we feel; maybe you're afraid of confrontation, maybe you're afraid he won't accept your feelings, maybe you're afraid of upsetting him such that he leaves and all that giving will have been for nothing.  Nothing; not because you gave of yourself, you gave your heart, and he didn't give you anything back, but because he didn't want it.  You don't want to feel easy-come-easy-go after you put yourself through it.  Girl... you betta don't!

I've learned:

1. Just because he wants to love you doesn't mean he can.  Just because he's crying doesn't mean he deserves sympathy.
2. Communication is THE key to a healthy relationship.
3. As a woman, always, always DECIDE your place.  If you're comfortable being the "Main Chick" and letting him have his little flings, that's fine... but DECIDE that.  Don't let him put a label on you that you didn't choose for yourself.
4. Love shouldn't hurt and love should be free.  The minute it starts costing you to give, the minute it pains you to love... you need to reevaluate your situation.
5. Never, never, never, never, never, N-E-V-E-R!  accept less that what you know you're worth.  Because once you do, he's got no reason to treat you any better than what you accept.  
6. If a man wants to be a part of your life, he will find a way to put himself there.  If he hasn't found himself yet, you damn sure aint gonna do yourself any favors calling yourself, "helping him."  If he wants to be lost, let him wander.  Don't play hide and seek with that fool!

And I'm not saying any of this to say that men are born users, that they don't have feelings too, or that there aint a man out there that can do right by a woman... I'm saying this to say... women have been conditioned to do for others, but until you can do right by yourself, you're just going to be emotionally drained.  So love yourself, do right by yourself; all else is secondary.  Oh!  And relationships aren't games to be played, there aren't any real rules, but... above all: always, always do what's best for you and your sanity + emotional well-being.

On Money

Tonight was shaping up to be a slow night.  Oh, there were people in the club, they just weren't tipping.  But then...

One guy tipped me $17.25 off of an $8.75 order.  I have no idea why, seeing as the only conversation we had was "what can I get for you?"/"Malibu and pineapple," but I wasn't going to question it.

Then, there was this other guy who didn't believe me when I said pretty much all I drink when I go out is straight whiskey.  He bought me a shot of whiskey (a real one, since the club was close to closing), and after I downed it (to his great surprise), he tipped me $50 (plus the $4 he tipped me before).  

$71.25... that's almost a whole night's tips off of 2 people!  I need more customers like them.  ...Except it kinda makes me nervous to be tipped $50 and given a business card (he's president of an area marketing research firm) when I don't intend to have anything other that the normal customer/bartender relationship with this man.  Tipping so hugely is like playing Roulette with your money; you might score, but chances are... you just donated to someone's college fund.

On Madness

I also have the type of customers I hate.  I almost went full-on DC Girl on this man because he was being ridiculous.

So, he comes up to the bar and asks for a drink.  It sounded like he said "zombie," so I started making him one.  As I prepared to pour, he cried out:

"Hol' hol'  whatchu makin?"

I turned around, "A Zombie."

He shook his head, "Nah.  I said: where's Grandame?"

"Oh.  She's not working tonight," I answered, although I could've sworn his sentence had begun with, "let me get a..."

"Oh aight.  Well, let me get what you was makin then."

"A Zombie."

"Yeah, that."

He proceeds to let me make the damn drink as he turns around to his friend.  I swear I overhear him saying, "I aint payin for that shit."  And then after holding his finger up at me, telling me to hang on a second, because, "I'm lookin' for someone," he walks out of the club.

Now, I can always resell the drink I've made (you just strain the ice out and put a napkin over the glass so it stays fresh), but I was just mad he let me make it, knowing he wasn't about to pay for it.  But then it got even worse...

About 20 minutes later, he comes back into the club.  Maybe he isn't an asshole after all, I thought to myself.

"I thought you left me," I pouted, turning the cute, flirty bartender charm on.

He was brusque, "Where's my drink at?"

Charm wasted.

"Right here.  I put a napkin over it and drained the ice."  I showed him.

"I want a fresh one."

I held in a sigh.  "We're out of Triple Sec.  I can't make another one."

"It's watered down.  I don't want that shit," he shook his head.

"No it isn't, I drained the ice."

He was adamant, "It's watered down."

"Here, do you want to taste it first?" I asked.

"I ain't payin' for that!"

"I said: do you want to taste it first?" I repeated, grabbing a shot glass and pouring a little of the drink into it for him.

He took the shot and downed it.  "It's weak and it's watered down," he declared.  (Now, I know this was a lie because I'd let it sit, so all the higher proof alcohol was at the top).  "Give it to me for $7."

"All mixed drinks are $11.50."

"Make me a drink for $7."  

By this point I was starting to get more than a little ticked off.  Most people don't come to the bar to start haggling with the bartender.  You do not negotiate prices at a strip club, dipshit.

Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I silently started filling up a chaser glass with cranberry juice.  Whatever it takes to just get him AWAY.  FROM.  ME.

"What's that?" he asked as I was pouring.

"Cranberry juice."

"I want a drink."

"I'm making you a vodka cranberry."  (I got too lazy to say cranberry and vodka)

He nodded.  Then I went to pour the vodka.  Being careful to keep them together (we serve our chasers and shots separately), lest he think I'd already poured the vodka in the cranberry juice, take a sip, and complain that it was watered down again, I announced, "that's $7."

"What's this?"  he asked again.

Is this fool effin' stupid?  "Your drink.  A cranberry and vodka.  $7."

His friend piped up, "can we get two Heinekens with that?"

"$21," I said shortly, all customer-friendly dulcet tones gone from my voice.

I rang them up.  "Oh, and can I get ten $1s?" his friend asked, handing me a $1 bill.

My face must've gone through 5 different expressions of outrage in the space of 3 seconds, because moments later he smiled sheepishly and stuck it back in his pocket and handed me a $10.  "Oops.  My bad."

I stared at him.  "Yeah."  

I've never been happier to see anyone's backside than I was when they finally turned around and seated themselves.  Ugh!

QUOTE OF THE NIGHT:

"Bushmills?  I'll believe that when I see it!"

(Customer to me BEFORE tipping me $50 after I downed a shot of whiskey, straight.  No chaser.)